Eternity
by shadow936
Summary: One of Alex's largest advantages in the spy agency is his age. He expected to be let go when he turned eighteen, but what if he never got past 14? Just stopped aging. No flames plz, don't have much experience with this. Title can change with suggestions.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I'm not creative enough to make a funny mini-story for this so…I don't own Alex Rider. Duh. This is my second story? Technically first cause the other one was so bad, and the category was so weird I just don't count it. On with the story then!

Preface

14 Years Ago

Screaming.

Loud intense screaming. Doctors in stained white coats running about the room, surgical carts carrying expensive tools pushed carelessly away. And one woman, lying in a hospital bed, as white as the sheets that surrounded her and a sheen of sweat covering her face.

Then silence. The woman's breathing was loud in the quiet room as a baby's cries began to emanate from the doctors' hands.

After a quick check and, "It's a boy!" the doctor handed the baby to a nurse and turned to, once again, talk to the mother, whose eyes had not yet left her son. Taken by surprise, the nurse stepped back.

Right into a cart.

Syringes and tools flew everywhere. There was a mad scramble to clean up and, in the confusion, the baby was put down and forgotten.

Confusion. Utter and total confusion. The baby reached his chubby hands out, obviously already ridiculously well developed. His meaty newborn fingers closed around something cold and cylindrical, and he happily tugged it towards himself, not noticing the sharp point on the end.

Pain. Fiery, excruciating pain, circled outwards from his wrist. His cries slowly faded, and it was the absence of the familiar wailing that caught the adults' attention. They all looked at different times, but the loud gasp that they all gave came at the same moment.

Panic. Blindingly terrifying panic filled the room as the doctor rushed forward, his hands flying towards the silent baby. "My baby!" The excruciated cry came from the mother, desolation in her voice and fear in her eyes.

But darkness was around the baby, and he was seemingly fine – apart from a small white circle on his wrist – as he was carried back to his mother.

Sorry if this is inaccurate. I've never had this experience myself. Duh. Now, there is a button…here ---------------------------- CLICK IT


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: We all know what this says. I do (not) own ALEX RIDER

Chapter 1

14 years later

Alex Rider matured faster than others, it was a known fact. Perhaps that was why MI6 recruited him in the first place. He had even begun shaving. (1)

Surprise was what he felt when his mirror showed his face completely devoid of stubble. (Also 1) Confused but pleasantly so, he dressed and slowly descended the stairs, walking on legs that were still sore from his experience with Winston Yu (2). Rubbing bleary and sleep filled eyes, he entered the kitchen to find Jack standing before the stove, smoke rising in front of her and a crisp smell in the air. Whatever she was trying to cook was obviously burned.

"Morning Jack," he said quietly. Jack jumped, knocking crispy pancakes from the pan. Alex frowned. Didn't she hear him come in? He pulled a chair out and sat down, purposely letting the chair scrape against the floor. Jack placed a plate of black pancakes in front of him, a sheepish yet defiant expression on her face.

"How'd you sleep Alex? Obviously well, since it actually looks like you shaved this morning." (It was also a known fact that Alex was not the most accurate of shavers.) Her tone was teasing, laughter in her eyes, but the question sent his mind into overdrive. He couldn't tell her how he got a perfect shave, because he didn't. He decided not to worry her with it, he already gave her more than enough of that.

"Practice makes perfect, but your cooking might be the exception," he said simply, subtly avoiding a direct answer. He dropped his now empty plate in the sink and dashed out the door before Jack could think of a comeback, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he went. He was glad that Jack hadn't abandoned him like so many others. It was their daily banter that kept him sane.

His bike chain creaked as he pedaled along the road, reminding him that he had to get his belongings into shape again. His constant missions did nothing for the health of his possessions. Consumed as he was in his thoughts, it came as a surprise when he found himself in front of his school gate.

Regret. Bitter, bitter regret; and anger. Anger that MI6 had done this to him, that they had made him an outcast in his own school. It was sick that a kid his age was more comfortable in the presence of trained killers than when around carefree teens his own age. Grabbing the handlebars in an unknowingly strong hold, he pulled it into the bike rack, locked it, and walked through the school doors.

Whispers. Cruel, cruel things carrying vicious rumors. Supposedly quiet communication, yet Alex could hear them all. To them, he was the druggie, the gang member, skipping school to get into shoot-outs with the police. To others, he was just the sickly kid that MI6 had made him.

MI6.

The thought made him tremble with anger.

These vicious rumors followed him as he walked towards his first class. First period was Chemistry. (3) He found this class exponentially boring, as the biggest explosion their teacher allowed was one from a fizzing volcano. He dropped his bag and sat down, the sound of the other kids making him jump. Quickly, he tried to shut down his senses.

Brookland was his – relatively – safe haven. He didn't need to use his senses. The class was dull, more so than usual, and Alex found himself drifting. The phone rang loudly, breaking Alex's mental silence. The teacher frowned, upset at being interrupted mid-word.

"Hello?" he said, annoyance clear in his voice. The person on the other end of the line said something, and the teacher's eyes widened. "Alex Rider? Alright, I'll get him." The teacher gestured for Alex to come with his index finger, the arm holding the phone extended towards him. Alex rose painfully, limbs slowed with dread. What was only a few seconds felt like hours as his numb fingers closed around the phone.

"Hello?" he said weakly.

"Alex." Blunt's emotionless voice sent shivers down Alex's spine as he tried to hold in his anger. He was near his classmate and, if only for their sake, had to keep it in.

"What do you want?" Alex growled, carelessly impolite.

"We need to see you. Please come to the Royal and General bank so we can speak in private."

"And what if I don't want to go, Blunt? What if I refuse?" There was silence on the other end of the line, then:

"I'll send a car."

When do guys start shaving? No clue as I'm obviously female. (And ridiculously young to know)

In case you don't know, this is POST (after, for those still living in a cave.) Snakehead.

Haven't started High School yet so…not sure what classes there are.

Alright. I might not update for awhile cause I'm so busy and I need to get the plot straight. But there's a little button somewhere around

-----------------------------------------

There that you should CLICK RIGHT NOW.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: We all know how this works people. Do I really need to repeat it?

Sorry this took so long. I was confused as to where it was going. I was also waiting for 10 MORE reviews but, that was too far-fetched so…here's the chap.

The car arrived precisely 10 minutes and 29 seconds later. Alex went unwillingly, though he didn't make a great show of it for the sake of poor Mrs. Bedfordshire. She always did have a soft spot for him. Unhappily, he shifted his bag on his shoulder and followed the agent out of the door.

The agent was definitely low down on the food chain of MI6. His head was barely covered by a comb over, and the faint signs of a beer belly showed in the tightness of the buttons on his suit. He was constantly glancing back at Alex, his eyes showing concern and confusion. Alex began to wonder how he got into MI6. A mistake, though not likely. As Blunt said, where others saw coincidence, he saw conspiracy. The driver turned back around again, and Alex resumed his staring out of the window.

It took exactly 10 minutes and 35 seconds to reach the Royal and General Bank. Alex always did think it was funny that MI6's headquarters was a bank. They both supposedly helped people, though most didn't know the flaws of MI6, or the amount of money people paid banks each year (1).

Glancing around himself warily, Alex got out of the car and quickly crossed the sidewalk. He was still rather unsettled about walking in the same place where he had been shot only a few months ago. The doors opened before him and he entered the building, his pace slowing slightly as the doors closed behind him. After another quick check of his surroundings, Alex walked up to the receptionist and leaned on the counter, elbows crossed.

"Excuse me? I'd like to start a bank account, Jillian." Alex slowly flicked out two of his fingers, which were carefully shielded from the view of others by his elbows. (2) Jillian glanced at his hand and picked up the phone, dialing something. A moment later, she spoke.

"Everything is set up sir. You can find more assistance on the next floor up."

"Thank you." Alex turned and headed towards the elevator, aware of Jillian's curious stare burning into his back the whole way. It was a relief to get inside the elevator.

Royal and General was MI6's headquarters. Therefore, it would be fitting if everything was not as it seemed; which was the case. MI6 was addicted to the dramatics, even if everything had to be kept a secret. The whole thing was one huge cliché.

So it was also fitting that if the receptionist approved you, another button would appear on the control panel of the elevator for one minute, and one minute only. The button to the top floor, where the heads of MI6 locked themselves up.

How dramatic.

Alex leaned against the wall as the elevator moved smoothly upwards, pondering what this sudden call could be about. There was always the possibility of another mission, but he didn't even want to consider that. There had to be another reason. Right?

The elevator dinged quietly and Alex stepped out, instantly on alert. This floor was a whole other world, one where you needed your wits, or you might as well be dead. It was eat or be eaten. Men in suits were the only inhabitants in the hall, mere shadows slipping along the walls towards their destination, eyes emotionless and cold. Alex ignored them, continuing towards the door at the end of the corridor, where the light never seemed to reach. He entered without knocking and closed the door behind him, which shut with an ominous and final sounding click.

"Sit." Blunt was as blunt as always. (A/N) Like most authors, I've always wanted to say that.) Alex sat, dropping his bag so it rattled annoyingly. Blunt's eyes stayed as blank as ever. The door opened again and Mrs. Jones entered, sucking on a peppermint. It intrigued Alex that she wasn't there already, as it had always seemed as if neither Blunt nor Jones ever left the room.

"Hello Alex," said Mrs. Jones, her voice sounding fake and cheerful, straining to get the words out.

"Why did you call me here?" said Alex, just wanting to get it over with before he burst. He could feel the hatred swelling in his heart.

"We want to talk about your development," said Blunt, which surprised Alex. He had said want, not need, which implied there was a choice. Alex let it pass.

"What about it?"

"It's stopped." (A/N Be grateful I chose not to end it here. That would be evil. Sorry dearies, I haven't reached that low point yet.)

Alex raised an eyebrow, wondering what sort of trick this was. He was fourteen. He shouldn't have stopped growing. Most boys his age had barely started.

"You're trying to trick me again. It won't work," Alex said forcefully.

"Actually Alex, this time we aren't. Our cameras show that over the past week, your growth has decreased by 73%."

It took a moment for this information to get through his brain, but when it did, the force swelling up in his chest exploded.

"Cameras?" he yelled. "You've been watching me! You can't stay out of my life for one moment! Bloody-"

"Alex!" It was Mrs. Jones, stopping his expletive.

Shock. Anger. Swelling, consuming; taking over.

Alex saw red.

"Calm down Alex. I will have my agents remove you if you don't." Blunt was becoming tense, though his face did not show it. He knew what havoc Alex could stir up.

"Just to catch me again for your use whenever you need me," Alex murmured, his voice reduced to a deadly whisper.

"Oh just listen Alex!" said Mrs. Jones, exasperation showing clearly on her face. "We could explain it if you stop interrupting!" (3)

Shocked that Mrs. Jones had lost her temper, Alex fell quiet and sat again, unaware that he had ever gotten up. Blunt dropped a piece of paper onto the stack and looked Alex in the eyes.

"We've been monitoring you since you're mission with Stormbreaker. We were pleased to see that you matured quickly, physically, emotionally and mentally. Over the past two weeks, your growth has slowed down. Today, it stopped." A frown creased Blunt's pale forehead, the most emotion he had ever shown. Alex eased back in his chair and let his mind wander.

Stopped growing? It just wasn't possible. MI6 were not going to pull a bag over his head this time; unless they really were telling the truth.

Unlikely.

"We called you in to warn you that an agent will be around you all day long, watching for any change. You need to stay in top health." Alex felt another surge of anger. Why did they care about his health? They just wanted him to be healthy enough for the hardest missions, things sane people wouldn't do. It was a known fact that Alex was teetering between sweet, sweet sanity and a very dark place. Well, known in his school, and who could trust those rumors?

"I believe that if you have stopped growing, your body will stop going through the different phases," said Blunt. "The reason for death is when the body grows too weak and frail to sustain itself, it, well, dies."

Alex could imagine where this was going, but he needed to hear it straight out. "So you're saying…?"

"You might live forever."

* * *

I know absolutely nothing about banks. I do think it's ironic though…

Don't you ever think MI6 would have secret codes? To ensure security? I take FULL CREDIT for the elevator thingie. I just thought it was spy-like.

Does Alex always have to agree with them? He's a TEEN for goodness sake. He's SUPPOSED to argue.

Thank you for your time. Now just take a little bit more of it and CLICK THAT BUTTON UNDER THIS STORY. IT SAYS REVIEW (For those still living in a cave.) It's simple to just write whether or not you liked the story, and hopefully some advice?

Again, thanks for the time! Don't like, don't read.


	4. Chapter 4

Alex stared for a second, the gears in his mind working overtime to make sense of it. They couldn't mean what he thought they meant. It was impossible! His chest began to feel tight, and he pressed his lips together. Laughter began to bubble up, pushing against his lips until they opened and he fell into a fit of hysteria.

"You've got to be kidding me," he gasped out, tears stinging the sides of his eyes. "Of all the things you could have pulled, you chose this!"

Even Blunt seemed taken aback by his reaction. He had been expecting anything but. "Alex, I promise you, this is no joke," said Blunt.

"You promise? You promise? What do any of your promises mean?" asked Alex vehemently. The last of the laughter had left his body, and he was deadly serious. "Everything you've ever told me was a lie. Why should I believe you now?"

Mrs. Jones made some sort of choking noise, which Alex took for her choking on the peppermint. He didn't care. His eyes were locked on Blunt's, as if Alex could kill him with only a stare. But alas, that was too much to ask for, as Blunt stayed very much alive.

"You're alive," Blunt said simply. "If we had never, not once, told you the truth, I predict you'd be dead by now. And honestly, Alex, how would we ever come up with something as insane as this?"

Alex sat back into the hard chair, his mind too preoccupied to notice how uncomfortable it was. Fourteen. Forever. Alex was struck by another thought. What about eighteen?

"But…I'll never reach eighteen. You'll own me forever!"

Blunt smirked, the emotion incongruous on the normally expressionless face. "Yes, it appears so."

Alex began to shake. His whole life. Owned. It was bad enough to be in employment until eighteen, let alone the rest of Blunt's life and who knows how long for the next heads life. "Forever! You can't do this to me! I'm only fourteen!" Alex jumped from his chair and picked it up, reaching back and flinging it at them. Even Blunt's eyes widened fractionally as he ducked under the chair, which chaired through the wall and became stuck.

"Alex, control yourself!" said Jones sharply. But Alex could not. His body shook more and his fists began to clench.

Fortunately, Jones spotted the danger and immediately had the fuming Alex escorted from the building by two burly guards, who forced him not so gently into the car that would drive him home. The driver was the same soft, slightly pudgy looking man from before. Alex wondered if there was a reason that the man had been assigned as his personal escort, but at the very moment, it didn't matter all that much to him. He sat pressed against the seat, his arms crossed and face set in a childish pout. At that moment, he looked so much like a normal teenager that the driver wondered why he was driving the boy from the MI6 HQ. Due to his distracted thoughts, the car sailed right on by the house, and it was about ten minutes before either driver or passenger noticed the change of course. It was Alex who was the first to notice.

"Where are we going?" He asked dryly.

"Your home, where else?" the driver replied. He took a second to look around, and his face took on a red flush. "Oh, oops." He swung the car into what Alex was sure was an illegal U-turn and sped back down the road, well above the speed limit. It took another seven minutes to reach the house, and Alex got out without a word. The driver tipped his hat to Alex before pulling away from the curb and leaving Alex alone once more.

Alex walked up to the door, opened it, and entered, calling out, "Jack, I'm home!" Almost immediately, it hit him. A lamp lay broken by his a feet. A hole gaped in the wall, suspiciously the size and shape of a bullet. Alex froze, his mind mulling over things, before he remembered. "Jack!" It didn't matter that his feet were frozen. It didn't matter he couldn't think. All that mattered was finding Jack. And there she was. In the kitchen. On the floor. A hole through her forehead. A shocked expression on her face.

Alex took a few staggering steps before falling to her side. Jack. Jack. Why? His last comfort. His chest exploded into fiery pain, and he barely even realized what it was. His heart was shattering. Shattering into a million pieces. "Jack!" he wailed, unnoticed tears streaming down his face. No. No, it couldn't be true! Jack couldn't be dead, couldn't leave him all alone! He bent over, hugging her bloody body to his chest, not aware of anything, his breathing, the open door swinging in the breeze, the sirens wailing outside his door. Just him and Jack. Why?

Hands pulled him from Jack, and he cried out louder, pushing against them, pushing towards Jack. "Don't take her from me!" he screamed, his voice an unearthly high pitch. Another pair of hands grabbed onto him and started pulling him towards the door, but Alex struggled on. All he could see were the people, poking, prodding, pulling at Jack's dead body. Jack. "Don't touch her!" he yelled at them, his voice breaking off for another round of sobs. They ignored him, and began to clear away the body, searching the house for evidence.

It was the last thing he saw before he felt the needle prick him, and the last thing he thought was, Why her? Why me? And now I'm alone. Alone.

And then the world went black.

* * *

Reviews for the author? I'm sorry it took so long. Major writers block and not enough time. But good news is I've got the plot worked out! Besides, this was 3 pages, pretty good for me since I focus quality over quantity…Please review!


End file.
